


Be My One Dance.

by grimeslaheys



Series: Rarl drabbles [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Dance, Homecoming, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9219503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeslaheys/pseuds/grimeslaheys
Summary: Ron is an awkward loser of a kid while the boy he's in love with is a boisterous voice of the people. They share a dance and have a lot more in common than the Anderson boy had ever expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have SO many Rarl high school aus saved up, so expected another series with these two geeks (,:

Ron Anderson was a rather timid and awkward boy approaching the age of eighteen. He kept to himself and wasn't usually one to open up or make himself heard. He seemed to be the opposite of his counterpart, Carl Grimes. Carl was a spitfire. He spoke his mind and stood up for himself, and others, without so much as a second thought. Ron not only envied that, but adored it as well. Since they day they'd met in Chemistry II, Ron had always had a bit of a crush on the younger male.

Of course, he couldn't be open about it, not with his family and not with Carl's arguable swarm of swooning fangirls. His family would never accept him being anything other that stoically heterosexual and the overzealous teenage hormone machines would tear him to absolute shreds. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The honey blonde boy stood on the side of the gymnasium, his fingers tugging at the entirely too tight navy blue tie his mother had insisted on. It was Homecoming and everyone seemed to have a date, except for the eldest Anderson. Hell, even the odd, creepy kid who always drew Satanic circles on the walls had a date. He was, in short, a loser. His eyes strained to make out a familiar face he could leach onto for the rest of the night in an attempt to save what was left of his "Senior year of fun". He reminded himself to thank Enid for that incredible title. It was fit for a fifty foot banner, decorated with dollar store glitter and stickers that shouted "i'm not depressed OR exhausted, worship me!".

He sighed and slumped against the neatly painted concrete wall, dropping his gaze to the floor, glistening with sweat, metallic confetti, and shattered creativity courtesy of Atlanta school curriculum. He wanted to block out the sounds of happy go lucky kids swaying with the beat matched with eyes full of love and trust as best he could, however that endeavor was proving to be ultimately impossible. He contemplated leaving and hiding in some shitty diner until his mother expected him home, but his attention was drawn to a voice outside his egocentric 'free me from this hell' bubble. Slowly, his gaze swept over a nicely pressed suit to ironed lapels, finally stopping on a pair of glistening blue eyes that caused his heart to melt and his brain to stop... And vice versa.

"Oh thank god. I thought you were sleeping." Carl grinned that cheeky award winning grin and Ron had to remind himself to be chill, like a popsicle. Or the polar ice caps... Before global warming.

"No, nah. It's kinda impossible to sleep with all this unnecessary bass pumping through speakers that are already incapable of playing a decent sound." He snorted and looked toward the DJ, hiding the scowl his lips held from sounding so utterly ridiculous. He let out a slow sigh, returning his gaze to the shorter of the duo, "So. What's up?" He inquired with a pop of the 'p'. Carl met his question with a slight shrug.

"Last song of the night's coming up. I heard it was supposed to be something slow and ridiculous. I was wondering if you'd wanna, I don't know, dance with me." He suggested so sheepishly, Ron had to stop and ask if this was the same kid who singlehandedly brought half decent pizza back into lunch with just his wit and energy. Ron's eyes went wide, his eyebrows creeping halfway up his forehead.

"Me? I mean, yeah. Sure, yeah. I'd like that." He nodded, eagerly, not caring if he looked like a desperate fool. Hell, he was a desperate fool when it came to Carl freakin' Grimes.

Carl smiled, his cheeks lifting up in a way no one had ever really seen before. He glanced around and took Ron's wrist once the song in the background faded out and the new one started up. He dragged the eldest out to the center of the dance floor and faced him, his hands coming to rest on Ron's slender shoulders. His opposite laid his hands to rest on Carl's own hips.

Needless to say, Ron was a bit dumbfounded. He had been pining after Carl for two and a half years and now, he was sharing this moment in his last real homecoming with the boy he was infatuated with. At any moment, he was expecting to wake up to the sound of his screeching alarm and brother yelling about their household lack of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Yet that moment never came.

Instead, the moment held itself up to high standards while the duo swayed slowly, allowing the music to carry them. Ron watched as Carl pulled his lower lip between his teeth, worrying the flesh like he was remembering he'd left the stove on at home.

"Something wrong?" He interrupted the silence with a concerned whisper, studying the younger boy's face. Carl simply nodded,

"No, nothing's wrong. It's just-" He looked toward the decorated wall, sighing softly. "I've liked you for a little while and I'm just nervous, I guess." He returned his eyes to meet warm hazel hues.

Ron was taken aback. He felt the air rush from his lungs with enough force to knock him back to his own birth. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he carefully calculated his words. He had to be concise, he had to be direct, yet also romantic and suave.

"I like you too. Like a lot. Like so much." He blurted, suddenly, still shocked by the revelation.

It wasn't concise, direct, romantic, or suave, in any manner, but Carl's face still lit up like a Christmas tree. Ron was certain that would never get old.

"So. I guess I didn't make a mistake in asking you to dance tonight?" Carl's voice dropped to a soft murmur, urging Ron's head down so he could rest their foreheads together.

"No... You didn't make any mistakes. I'm glad my one dance of the night was you." He whispered in return, clutching Carl's frame closer to his as though the second the song was over, he'd fade like a figment of his imagination.

Not only was Ron thrilled Carl was his one dance of the night, he hoped Carl would be the only one he would ever dance with again. It was farfetched, sure, but Homecoming and all that shit was for dreaming, and boy was he dreaming.


End file.
